King Aldis was seething. He paced through the throne room while staring at his only son. “After all the work Madame Matilda put into that party, for you to just run off and do God knows what...”
“Now, your majesty,” Matilda interjected. “Prince Rowan said he was feeling ill that evening. All of the courtiers understood why he needed to step out. No harm was done.” Matilda gave Rowan a small, sympathetic smile.
“Like hell he was ill!” He turned to address Rowan again. “That damn cloak you wear when you're trying to sneak out was missing from your room- as were you!” King Aldis sighed deeply. “I thought giving you a choice in this marriage business, rather than picking someone for you, would make you take this more seriously. If this is all too much, I have no qualms about making an alliance with-”
“No!” Rowan replied hastily. He cleared his throat. “No, I mean, I apologize father. I will take this more seriously. I’m sorry for leaving. It was just a lot of people at once. I was….overwhelmed. I needed to be alone out in the gardens for a bit. Calm my nerves.”
Aldis eyed him shrewdly. “You’ve been invited to the Carpenters for lunch tomorrow. The Viscount Atticus Carpenter has two eligible children. Prove you want to take this seriously by dining with them. Atticus said he invited you because Beatrice enjoyed conversing with you at the party. She said you two had quite the chemistry.”
Rowan felt he shared as much chemistry with Beatrice as he did a wet carrot, but if this is what he needed to do… “Fine,” he groaned internally. “I’ll be there.”
Matilda walked with Rowan back towards his bedchamber. “So,” Matilda began, “would you like to tell me what you were really doing the other night, or would you prefer to keep it a secret?”
Rowan knew there was no point in lying to Matilda. She was one of the very few people he trusted and he felt like he needed to talk to someone about the events that had taken place. He began explaining everything.
“And we were having such a good time! At least, I thought we were; I know I was. I know that I frustrate him sometimes, but I have made him laugh. That’s a good sign right?” Rowan desperately ran his fingers through his blonde hair. “And I’ve learned so much from talking to him! But he literally ran off out of nowhere- again! He obviously doesn’t want me to find him. I guess I just can’t take a hint,” he said while giving Matilda a dejected smile.
She ran a thumb across his smooth cheekbone. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think anyone that takes the time to really know you must realize how special you are.”
He leaned into her warm touch. “It’s just... he’s intelligent, and quick witted, and he isn’t afraid to challenge me. I feel like he sees past the title when we’re talking, that he sees me as a person not just the Prince of Gallan. It’s thrilling and terrifying at the same time.”
“Being known is scary business. I know the last time you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, well,” she dithered, “this one sounds different.”
“He is,” Rowan said emphatically. “He really is. He’s like no one I’ve met before.”
“Why don’t we have one of the servants tune up your piano. Composing always makes you feel better.”
He shook his head. “I feel like painting. I have the perfect subject in mind.”
-
Isabella grabbed her aching head and slowly opened her eyes. She had a high tolerance for alcohol, but a high penchant for getting hangovers. The bed felt surprisingly warm as she moved further under the covers. She realized why almost immediately. Her memories of the previous night came flooding back to her.
“Good morning Baroness Isabella,” the man laying next to her said dreamily. “You’re even more beautiful in the morning sunlight than painted by the pinks of dusk.”
His voice was smooth and confident as he reached out to kiss her hand. Could this really be the stoic looking man she’d met the previous night?
“Ah, right. Good morning Lenon.” She shifted uncomfortably in the bed.
“It’s Liam,” he replied, propping himself up on one elbow.
“Of course it is, that’s what I said, Liman”
“Liam,” he repeated again.
“Yes, Liam.” She looked around the room and saw his crumpled guards uniform on her bedchamber’s floor. Her gown was laying beside it. They had undressed so hastily that neither thought to hang their (now wrinkled) clothing.
Her original intention had been to distract the guard so Prince Rowan could leave the soiree, but she had actually enjoyed talking to the man, Liam, very much. She had also enjoyed looking at him as well. His features were aggressively masculine. His nose was somewhat crooked, having obviously been broken before. The scar across his cheek was faded, as if it had happened years ago, but it added to an overall air of mystery. His hair was light brown, but the curls that covered his chest were much darker, like the morning stubble that was currently covering his sharp jawline.
Despite his deep voice and rugged appearance, he was surprisingly sweet. She took a moment to admire him before speaking again.
“It’s been lovely conversing with you this morning, Liam, but I’m sure the palace is missing you. You probably have plenty of guard duties to attend to.”
He shook his head, using a strong hand to gently caress her cappuccino skin. “Nothing that can’t wait until after breakfast. You’ve probably worked up an appetite since last night.”
She had, in fact, worked up an appetite. It had been quite sometime since she’d been so thoroughly impressed by someone in bed. For being tall and muscular, Liam was surprisingly flexible and the things he could do with his tongue were beyond spectacular. Still, that didn't mean she was in the business of exchanging morning pleasantries.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. The servants will be coming to run me a bath soon. You can imagine how it would look if they found someone in bed with me.”
“Are you concerned about your virtue?” he asked earnestly.
Isabella bit her lip while nodding, worried she’d explode into a fit of giggles otherwise. “Mmmmmphffmmm,” was the only noise she managed to make.
“Yes, my lady,” he responded seriously. “I want you to know that I don’t believe a woman’s virtue is determined by her virginity, but I understand if this is important to you.”
Holllllllllly shittttttt. Was this guy real? She felt like he could be a character in the romance novels Bran pretended not to read.
“Uh, huh. Yeah, so…” she motioned towards the door. “Be sure to take the servant's door out around the back. We can’t have anyone seeing you... for the sake of my virtue.”
He bent forward to place a tender kiss on her hand. “I want you to know that I never do this unless I feel a real connection to someone. What we did in bed last night was amazing, but I very much enjoyed your company as well. When can I see you again? If you’d allow me, I’d like to take you out to dinner.”
Liam seemed like a nice man and Isabella had enjoyed her night with him. She sighed internally, if only he weren’t looking for something serious. After the pleasurable night they’d spent together, she wouldn’t mind another rendezvous, but it was obvious he wasn’t a ‘no strings attached’ kind of guy. Pity.
There was no way she’d let someone, no matter how kind, stand in the way of her goals. Men always liked sleeping with strong, independent women, but they seldom liked listening to them or encouraging their ambitions.
“Oh, I’m sure our paths will cross again soon. Let us leave some things up to fate… it’s more romantic that way.”
He looked her over, unsure if he believed the sincerity of her answer. “Well, you mentioned how much you loved creating your salves. Maybe the next time fate brings us together you can bring me some scar cream?”
She stroked the long mark that ran across his cheek. “Are you sure? I like the grizzled look it gives you. I think it makes you even sexier.”
The comment made the guard flush crimson, as if he hadn’t spent the entire night naked in bed with her. “Ah, oh, okay then,” he stuttered.
He planted another tender kiss on her head and gave her a few more words of praise before bowing. “Until we meet again, Baroness.” Liam changed into his clothes quickly before leaving the manor through the servants’ exit.
Isabella laid back down and stared at the stone ceiling of her bedchamber. Men are only interested in domesticating women, she reminded herself. He only sees you as a potential womb and homemaker.
Isabella decided it was best that she didn't see the guard again.
Despite her wishes, fate had other ideas in mind.
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